


Queen, Pawn, and Checkmate

by Anonymous



Category: Once Upon a Time (2011)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-26
Updated: 2011-12-26
Packaged: 2017-10-28 04:12:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/303608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the Evil Queen wanted something from Rumpelstiltskin, she tried sending her servant in first.  One heartless creature to another.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Queen, Pawn, and Checkmate

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Suaine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suaine/gifts).



The Huntsman’s first visit to the prison was under the Queen’s orders, as a messenger carrying a vaguely-worded request that ought to make some kind of sense to the prisoner, though it was all nonsense to him.  He’d been met at the cave entrance by a pair of dwarves serving as his guides and honor guard, or just plain guard, depending on how you wanted to look at it.  The people set to be sure he didn’t stray from the path.

“Not interested,” was Rumpelstiltskin’s greeting for him.

The prison cell was dark outside the light of the Huntsman’s torch, and Rumpelstiltskin was a dim outline sprawled against the far wall.  He didn’t seem to think this was worth getting up for.

“I haven’t asked you anything yet,” the Huntsman said.

“Your queen wants something, and she thinks she can send her pawn along to make a deal in her place.  She’s wrong.  Goodbye.”

There was a little more said than that, but only on the Huntsman’s side of the bars.

 

The second time he visited, the Huntsman got the impression Rumpelstiltskin had been expecting him.  He was sitting by the door, head hanging to one side, his nails tapping against the bars, and he didn’t bother looking up at his visitor.  “Come in,” he said.  “Sit down.  Make yourself comfortable.”

“The Queen-”

“-has ordered you to try again, yes, yes.  I don’t deal with middlemen, she doesn’t listen very well, and you’re stuck down here with me until she gets bored with this game, lucky you.  I hope she pays you well.”

“She pays me nothing.”

Rumpelstiltskin looked up at him then.  “Really?  Then you’re either very loyal, very stupid, or very bad at negotiations.  Possibly all three.  And yet she’s sent you to bargain on her behalf.  Why is that, I wonder?”

“You must at least want to know what she’s offering you.”

“The only thing she’s offering me right now is a sacrificial lamb,” Rumpelstiltskin said, pointing a long finger at the Huntsman.  “Don’t change the subject.  Why don’t my jailers like you?”

The Huntsman wondered exactly what Rumpelstiltskin thought the subject was.  “What makes you think they don’t?”

Rumpelstiltskin shifted his accusatory finger to point at the dwarves waiting at the other end of the hall, where they were far enough away to be out of earshot for anything below a yell.  He raised his hand and waggled his fingers at them, then widened his eyes and mock-whispered, “Don’t let him see your face!  Don’t let him know your name!  Wear a hood!  Wear a mask!  Stay out of the light!  Stay away from the bars!  Stay away!”  He relaxed his expression and spread his hands.  “But they’ve left you alone with me, dearie.”

“Maybe I don’t need their protection.”

“And maybe you’re no more welcome here than I am.  Maybe she sent a monster to deal with a monster.”  His lips split into a grin then.  “What’s hiding under that skin of yours?”

The Huntsman shook his head.  “No, you were right the first time.  Loyal and stupid.  Sorry to disappoint.”

Rumpelstiltskin’s smile only widened, but he shrugged.  “All right, loyal and stupid.  What is it you want?”

He was having a hard time following Rumpelstiltskin’s leaps in logic.  “You’re willing to deal now?”

Rumpelstiltskin’s hands wrapped around the bars.  “Now and always.”

The Huntsman had his mouth open to object to that last statement, because no, up until a minute ago he _hadn't_ been - but he thought better of it.  “All right, well, I gave you the Queen’s message last time.  Hasn’t changed.  I just need an answer – other than _come here yourself_ , I mean.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“I’m pretty sure it was,” the Huntsman said with a slight smile – it was the exact message he’d given the Queen after his last visit, anyway – then he frowned.  “Wait, you meant-”

“What is it _you_ want?” Rumpelstiltskin repeated.  Abruptly, he laughed.  The Huntsman half expected Rumpelstiltskin’s laugh to be as high pitched and strange as his voice, but it was a nearly silent, whispering thing.  “The expressions you make!”

The Huntsman hadn’t thought he was making any particular face.  “I didn’t come here for myself.”

“But you’re here all the same.  Let’s make the best of it, shall we?”  He pressed close to the bars, smiling up at the Huntsman.

The Huntsman scrubbed his hands over his face.  Why was he even having this conversation?  Rumpelstiltskin kept taking off on tangents and he found himself just following along.  “Look.  No.  I’m just here to run messages between you and the Queen.  That’s all that’s going to happen.”

“But that’s not what you really want,” Rumpelstiltskin sing-songed.  He released the bars and settled back against the far wall of his cell.

 

He didn’t bother returning to the castle to report in person after that visit, but he did send a message off, and got a letter back with the Queen’s orders: he was to wait until Rumpelstiltskin provided a reasonable response.  Beating his head into the wall seemed like the better option.

 

He had one of the dwarves bring in a chair for him, and then a table, and on his fifth visit he brought along a few apples, some bread and cheese, some water.  He bit into the first apple before he fished the second out of his pack and held it out before the bars.  “Here.”

Rumpelstiltskin had been in the far corner of his cell up until that point.  Whistling.  Badly.  He couldn’t tell if that was for his own entertainment, or to annoy him; he was starting to suspect there wasn’t any difference.  Rumpelstiltskin hadn’t reacted to the food one way or the other when he first brought it out, but waving it in front of his cage got his attention.  “And what’s that for?” he asked.

“It’s an apple.  You don’t know what an apple’s for?”

Rumpelstiltskin tilted his head, his smile unfaltering.  “My price is usually a bit higher than that.”

“Oh, for - This isn’t a deal.  It’s an apple.  Just take it.”

“You’d be surprised how dangerous an apple can be,” Rumpelstiltskin said.  From the look on his face, it might as well have been a venomous serpent the Huntsman was offering him.  On second thought, Rumpelstiltskin would probably get along with the serpent.  “I don’t like owing people favors.”

The Huntsman eyed him in disbelief.  “Yeah, well, I don’t like eating alone.”  Well, no, that wasn’t true.  He ate most of his meals alone.  But he was usually _alone_ , not sitting in front of someone watching him eat, particularly through the bars of the cage, particularly when they had to be starving.  He didn’t know what they were feeding him, or how often, but he doubted fresh fruit was on the menu.  Then again, he was assuming Rumpelstiltskin needed to eat at all.

“How soft-hearted of you.”

The Huntsman burst out laughing at that.  “Yeah.  Yeah,” he said, shaking his head.  “Forget it then.  You don’t want to eat, fine.  Wouldn’t want to put you in my debt.”

“Have I said something to offend?” Rumpelstiltskin asked, his smile back in place.

“No,” he said, “my fault.  Forgot who I was talking to for a moment.”

Rumpelstiltskin hummed something that might have been agreement.  “The Queen does have some nasty habits, doesn’t she.”

The Huntsman went silent.

“Oh, come on now.  I don’t think any less of you for it.”  Rumpelstiltskin leaned forward conspiratorially, although the dwarves had stopped bothering to watch them several days ago.  “I have it on good authority that I’m quite heartless myself.”

The Huntsman didn’t say anything to that, either.  He just leaned back in his chair and watched the prisoner, and slowly Rumpelstiltskin’s smile faded, until he lunged forward, gripped the bars of his cage, and asked if there was something the Huntsman might want.

 

“Why?  Knight to b5.”

Fifteenth visit.  He’d gotten the dwarves to come up with a chess board.  He moved Rumpelstiltskin’s piece for him, and considered his own move.

“No, no, not that one.  Don’t do that.  Terrible move.”

He ignored Rumpelstiltskin, picked up the pawn anyway, and Rumpelstiltskin groaned.

Chess wasn’t the Huntsman’s game of choice, and he wasn’t all that good at it, but he’d started playing with Henry, the butler back at the castle, and it was a way to pass the time.  That was about all they’d been doing for these past few days, passing time.  Sooner or later the Queen would lose her patience and come down here herself.  Sooner rather than later, if the tone of her messages was anything to go by.

Rumpelstiltskin’s knight took down a bishop.  “ _Why_?” Rumpelstiltskin said again, impatient for an answer.

“I’ve seen how your deals end,” the Huntsman said.

“Palaces, princesses, straw into gold?  Yes, terrible.”  A queen took a pawn.  “They make their own choices.  All I’ve ever done is given them a choice.  It’s them who-”

“And I’ve made deals before.”  He’d gotten into the habit of ignoring Rumpelstiltskin’s words when it suited him; it was often the only way to talk to him at all, otherwise the conversation veered off in a million different directions at once, too fast for him to follow.  “Didn’t work out well.”

“I’m offering to fix that for you,” Rumpelstiltskin said.  Enticing, pleading.  Hard to tell the difference.

“Doesn’t seem to have worked out that well for you, either.”  His hand hovered over his last pawn.  It was probably going to be checkmate in a few moves, his loss, but he was still hoping to spot a way out along the way.

“No.  Don’t do that.”

He moved the pawn anyway.

He didn’t manage to find that way out.


End file.
